Chapter 133: The Trial

Isolde sat next to Drake at the trial of Ben Willoughby. She was sitting there, grasping his hand. She looked around the courtroom of the Nexus. It was high-gloss, polished marble; the whole courtroom reminded her of something from a movie or something. It wasn't like the courtrooms mundanes had; she had remembered seeing some on television growing up.

This was more like her classroom for practical craft, with a sunken floor and the seats for people attending the trial raised. But it was more polished. Isolde's eyes traveled around, and she saw a few of the wraiths in attendance. She recognized them from the one meeting she had been to.

Yes, this would be the day the world changed, they had said. She didn't want that. They were positioned in various areas; Drake had told her that they would attack here, and that Malachi was sure this was the perfect stage for his coup. Isolde didn't want to be there. Drake was just mad at what had happened to her, how she was put in the position of being in a coma for a year, and he wanted revenge. She knew it.

A year she had lain in bed, unable to talk to Drake, kiss him, or give him the whole story. Malachi relayed it, and she was sure he planted the seeds that Drake would be front and center with the wraiths for the honor of defending her. She had learned that much; it wasn't going to be a trial but a bloodbath.

Isolde could feel her blood pressure spike, gripping Drake's hand hard. Yes, she was better; yes, she had regained her strength thanks to the tonics that had been crafted; yes, she had practiced a little at wielding dark craft and felt she was still powerful, but she had not attempted any mind manipulation. She was too worried after her actions set this whole thing in motion.

Malachi had used her injury to rally his wraiths. Ashford was behind her attack on Ben, but Isolde had made Ben burn down Acrane Academy; it was ultimately her fault, and she knew it. Though Malachi and even Drake and his parents kept blaming Ashford for isolating her all year, pushing her out of everything, that was true; Isolde still felt immense guilt.

It didn't matter that Milicent said she was young and acted irrationally because of Ashford's manipulations for over a year before Ben had attacked her. Isolde wished Lucifer had come back to her with news before she had to come to the trial. She would have felt better if she had had news of the things she was having her snake look into, particularly Ashford's plans.

If war was about to break out and Ashford had already, for whatever reason, weakened the Mundane world, what was he planning? She doubted it would help her cope, but maybe if she knew more she would be a little less scared.

Because that is what she was; she was scared. She didn't want to be there; she didn't want to talk about the night she was almost burnt alive; she didn't want to see Ben, and she didn't want fighting to break out at the end. Drake leaned over, whispering, "It will all be alright, love," and kissed her neck quickly and softly. The anger and fear lessened but were just below her surface.

On top of all her worries, there was the anger. A consequence for her not thinking and ruining her core. It took a day after waking up from the coma to realize that she was too brash, too quick to do things, and never thinking them through. Drake would tell her nothing was her fault, but that was a lie. Isolde thought he really felt nothing was her fault, but she knew the truth: it was all her fault.

If she had waited to learn Dark Craft slowly, she wouldn't be so quick to anger. If she had not fought Roslein, she would still have two good eyes and a glass one. If she slipped into Malachi's mind that one time, he wouldn't have seen her as such a powerful weapon. If she had not told Ben to burn it all, Arcane Academy would not have had to be rebuilt, and hundreds of students wouldn't be displaced.

If she had thought things through, she wouldn't have been in a coma for a year, and Malachi would not have used her treatment through her last year of Arcane Academy and her injury as a rally cry for his wraiths. She knew all of this to be true.

Then some things had nothing to do with her. The Wraiths would still be around, wanting a new world for the wielders. Ashford would still, for whatever his reason was, have killed her parents and the other medical professionals. That irritated her to no end; why was he attacking the mundanes at all?

A large man walked into the courtroom followed by several others, pulling Isolde's attention from her thoughts. They took their seats; they were lower in the stadium, like a courtroom. How was this trial even going to go? Was it a jury of peers, like the mundanes did, or were the people now taking seats Nexus officials? Isolde had no idea. Then the large man spoke to the filled room.

"Wielders, we all know that Arcane Academy was burnt down just over a year ago. Today we will finally get answers about who is responsible for the destruction of such a fine institution. The accused is Benjiam William Willoughby, a former student of Arcane Academy. This trial will determine whether he was responsible and what led to the destruction of the place where our youth attend school to learn their craft. We will determine if he is solely responsible and the circumstances surrounding his actions. If we in the Nexus of Power find him guilty, we will determine his sentencing, and if there are others responsible, they will be dragged in by the Keepers for a trial of their own and sentencing."

Isolde gulped. Her mind was spinning; she was responsible; she had made him do it. Drake leaned over and whispered, "You won't remember what is happening. If they try, we act early." She nodded. Yes, what would stop her from being taken by Keepers if it came to light would be violence. Isolde's stomach churned again; regardless, the day would be violent in the end.